They say that gold don’t tarnish. It ain’t so.
They say it has a wild, unearthly glow.
A man can be more beautiful, more wild.
I flung their medal to the river, child.
I flung their medal to the river, child.

They hung their coin around my neck; they made
my name a bridle, “called a spade a spade.”
They say their gold is pure. I say defiled.
I flung their slave’s name to the river, child.
I flung their slave’s name to the river, child.

Ain’t got no quarrel with no Viet Cong
that never called me nigger, did me wrong.
A man can’t be lukewarm, ’cause God hates mild.
I flung their notice to the river, child.
I flung their notice to the river, child.

They said, “Now here’s your bullet and your gun,
and there’s your cell: we’re waiting, you choose one.”
At first I groaned aloud, and then I smiled.
I gave their “future” to the river, child.
I gave their “future” to the river, child.

My face reflected up, dark bronze like gold,
a coin God stamped in His own image–Bold.
My blood boiled like that river–strange and wild.
I died to hate in that dark river, child,
Come, be reborn in this bright river, child.

...................................................

This poem is based on facts. Cassius Clay, who converted to Islam and changed his name to Mohammed Ali, said that he threw his Olympic gold medal into the Ohio River. Ali, after being drafted, famously said, “I ain't got no quarrel with those Vietcong” and “no Vietcong ever called me nigger.”]

Other Poem by Mike Burch